


Ride

by LogosMinusPity



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Smut, Strap-Ons, and angela knowing exactly what she wants, poor fareeha having a total handful of a gf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 11:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10989777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogosMinusPity/pseuds/LogosMinusPity
Summary: Angela decides on a very particular sort of gift for herself from Fareeha...(gratuitous smut)





	Ride

Fareeha wandered out of the steam-filled bathroom and ran her fingers through her wet hair, shrugging into a pair of clean of cargo pants and a white t-shirt. The early morning run had felt good, even if she had been loathe to leave the comfort of bed before the sun was even up.

And really, it was made all that better by the wafting and distinct smell of fresh-pressed coffee that carried into the bedroom from the kitchen.

Angela had just been getting up as Fareeha had returned to make use of their more luxurious shower than what the locker rooms held, leaving little question to who was responsible for the blessed gift of morning caffeine.

Following her nose, Fareeha padded out of the bathroom and into the kitchen proper. Sure enough, Angela was predictably sitting at the kitchen table with her mug of coffee in hand, a small spread of work files already around her.

Fareeha’s gaze lingered on the black rimmed glasses her girlfriend wore, before drifting down to the table to search out the half-emptied french press and the waiting cup next to it. She was just stepping forward to reach for it when her gaze alighted on something that had most certainly not been on the table earlier, and was decidedly out of place from the normal morning routine.

The small, shoebox sized and wrapped gift sat in front of Fareeha’s chair, topped by a single large bow that only made Fareeha grow more unsettled the more she looked at it. Unease rippled up from her gut as she began thinking rapidly. What was today? There was no important anniversary she had forgotten, no holiday…

“It’s my birthday today.”

That brought on an entirely different sort of immediate and severe anxiety.

“Today is your birthday?!” Fareeha only half registered how her own voice cracked at the end, but Angela cut her off before she could continue.

“I hardly let you know, dear. I didn’t expect anything from you, nor did I want you getting...agitated.” Angela finally looked up from her papers, sipping her coffee for a long moment and raising an eyebrow just enough for Fareeha to force herself back into a semblance of...non-agitation.

She breathed in, and then out, searching for words.

“I thought you’re supposed to receive gifts on your birthday, not the other way around.” Fareeha frowned, and the first tuggings of suspicion started to arise.

Angela left no room for it though. “I didn’t say what’s in there is necessarily for you.”

_What?_

“Just open it,” encouraged Angela, and Fareeha could see the curve a secretive smile around the rim of the coffee mug.

Well, nothing was going to happen otherwise. Fareeha undid the decorative bow, pulling the lid from the box. She pushed the decorative tissue paper aside, and then found herself staring. It was a simple thing, really. Light purple, corresponding leather harness. No mistaking what it was or what its purpose was for, and Fareeha felt her mouth go dry.

“I was hoping you would use that tonight.”

She snapped her head back up from her study of the dildo. Angela had placed her mug of coffee back onto the table and was watching her, clearing trying to measure Fareeha’s reaction.

 _Don’t panic, woman_.

“I’ve...I mean. I’ve never used...you know—”

Angela stood, and her robe sighed the slightest bit, silk sliding against silk. She patted Fareeha’s face gently, smiling again before kissing her cheek.

“Don’t worry. I have utmost confidence you’ll be a quick study.”

Well crap.

* * *

It was days like today where, not for the first time, Fareeha desperately wished she had more experience under her belt in the bedroom.

Literally under the belt in this case.

Her lips twisted as she finished emptying the round of bullets into the target—already a subpar performance.

Fareeha grimaced at herself, and removed the sound-suppressing earmuffs before giving in and pinching the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb. The hell was she even supposed to do with...with that toy?

Her brain hovered over the pitiful idea of trying to do some ‘research’ on her computer, before balking at the thought of what such an internet search might draw up. Or worse, what might happen if someone found out what she was ‘researching’.

The thought of _anyone_ on base becoming any the wiser as to just what conundrum was preoccupying her thoughts for the day was horrifying to consider. Besides, she had a feeling that there was little in the way of ‘resources’ that was going to quell her growing anxiety as the day stretched on. For the millionth time, Fareeha glanced at her watch, feeling more than ever like it was a doomsday timer. As the afternoon wore on closer to evening and dinner, so too was her time running out.

She knew, of course, what her trepidations were from. It wasn’t as though Angela had ever complained about anything in bed. Far from it, Angela had instead only ever been praising of Fareeha. Which was good, considering how woefully inexperienced Fareeha felt far too often. And therein lay the problem, as much as Fareeha tried to steer her brain away from it.

She’d never used a strapon before.

(She allowed herself the brief chuckle over that sort of thing _certainly_ not being standard equipment in the army.)

Contrary to Fareeha’s adult life spent mainly in heavily monitored barracks and outposts, Angela’s easy-going manner and calm reassurance indicated that it was hardly her first time with such a toy, which in this case was less than reassuring to Fareeha.

What if Fareeha messed it up? What if she did something dumb? What if she just simply _wasn’t good with it_?

The thought of being a spectacular disappointment—particularly on what was supposed to be a special day for her girlfriend—sent a jolt of queasy fear shuddering through her all over again.

In the privacy of the locker room, Fareeha splashed cold water onto her face, very pointedly trying to calm herself. If she let herself ruminate too much on her worries, she knew she’d only end up seeing them come to life. She was hardly about to make excuses—she _did_ want to please Angela, no matter how nervous she was.

Fareeha glanced at her watch again. Still another few hours before dinner.

She stretched and sighed. If her brain wasn’t going to cooperate, then the best she could do was try to exhaust and distract it otherwise. Surely Zarya would be around for a solid lift session at the gym in the meantime.

* * *

Dinner already seemed long ago and far away, and as she stood in the privacy of the bathroom, Fareeha half-wished she’d indulged in more than just a glass of wine

Fareeha stared at herself in the mirror. She looked about the same as always when naked. _Turn right, then left._ Her body looked the same as always—she had a toned physique and knew it. Years of active frontline military service were to thank for that, and she’d never felt shy about the muscles she’d long since developed. Those were all there for a reason, were part of who she was.

Everything looked the same, until she got to her pelvis.

How the heck did guys normally deal with this...this thing?

The strapon bobbed ever so slightly every time she moved or stepped, and she quietly frowned at it. Of course the harness fit nice and snug across her hips, and the thick strap between her legs was hardly a discomfort. If anything, she could see how in the moment, if it pressed up against her own clit just so…

She frowned further at the artificial appendage. Just what exactly was expected of her?

“Everything alright in there, Fareeha?”

Fareeha gulped. “Fine!”

She couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever.

She turned and walked out into the bedroom. Angela was waiting for her on the bed, wearing only the same slim silk robe as from the morning. She looked up as soon as Fareeha entered.

“So...uh…” How did people do this? What was she even supposed to do? “How do you want it? Missionary?”

Her voice squeaked the faintest bit at the end, and she felt her cheeks flood with heat when Angela gave a gentle laugh.

“One thing at a time.” It made it a bit easier that Angela was keeping eye contact rather than looking further down. “Come here.”

Fareeha swallowed and walked fully up to the bed, leaning down and obliging with a kiss when Angela’s hand cupped the back of her neck.

Kissing was good. Kissing she knew how to do.

Angela tilted her head, lips dragging across Fareeha’s cheek before reaching her ear.

“You don’t have to do this if you aren’t okay with it. We can stop.”

More than anything, _that_ made Fareeha relax. She was nervous—she had been nervous ever since she opened that blasted box at breakfast—but her own apprehension was far outweighed by just who she was doing this for. Angela had never been anything but understanding. Fareeha turned her head back around, kissing the corner of Angela’s mouth.

“Shush. It’s your birthday. I want to do this for _you_.” And that was true, even if a self-conscious voice still chattered incessantly in the back of Fareeha’s head.

She could feel Angela smile against her lips, and knew that she’d said the right thing. Fingers tangled in her hair before Angela leaned back enough to raise one perfectly arched eyebrow and utter in a low voice:

“But maybe a bit of warming up before I’m ready to take all of you, don’t you agree?”

Fareeha’s gut clenched, not unpleasantly, and for a moment she was even more aware of the extra length of silicone strapped to her. And then Angela pushed her thoughts away by kissing her again. Their kisses deepened, mouths open, tongues pressing, and Fareeha brought her hands up to slide under the flimsy bit of silk that was still separating skin from skin.

Angela drea back again, and then pushed her palms down on Fareeha’s shoulders, urging her toward just where she wanted her to go. Fareeha grinned, and for a moment the tension bled out of her. No words were needed for her to know what Angela wanted from her.

The toy pressed up into her as she lay stomach-down into the mattress—a constant reminder that it was still there and attached to her—but she pushed the sensation aside. This she knew how to do.

Fareeha followed the soft curve of Angela’s stomach downward, peeling back the silk robe and running her hands over the creamy, naked skin. This was familiar territory, and she relaxed, kissing a trail over the dip Angela’s bellybutton, the rise of her hip, down the curve of her thigh. When she paused enough to lick the crease where leg connected into thigh, Angela stretched into her and gave a frustrated groan, legs opening wider.

Fareeha didn’t immediately oblige, grinning when Angela gave a second impatient groan above as she pressed her lips and tongue everywhere except where she knew she was wanted most.

“ _Darling_ , if you don’t—”

Angela cut off her own words with a sharp inhalation of breath as Fareeha chose just then to give in.

She found Angela’s clit easily, moving the flat of her tongue in a wide, lazy stroke across her sex, and reveling in the resultant shudder that she could feel tremble through her girlfriend.

“That...yes…”

As if extra encouragement was needed. Fareeha hummed, drawing circles against what she knew was the sensitive bundle of nerves before her, finding the exact movement of her tongue that she knew worked best.

Her hand joined a minute later, and pressed one finger in, feeling Angela squeeze around her, feeling her heat and excitement. She added a second finger, thrusting in a low and regular pattern, tongue moving all the while.

Angela grew tighter around her fingers, climax building, her thighs pressing against Fareeha’s ears and fingers digging into Fareeha’s scalp. Her back arched up off the mattress, and Fareeha didn’t need to hear the choked off moan to know her girlfriend had orgasmed, not when she could feel it against her fingers and mouth.

She licked her fingers clean and then pressed a few errant kisses, readjusting until she was kneeling between Angela’s legs.

Fareeha gripped the strapon with one hand, and then slowly and deliberately dragged the tip of it up and down Angela’s slit, swallowing heavily at the wet arousal that quickly coated it. It made her own sex throb against the tight leather strap that ran between her legs. Maybe she would enjoy this after all.

Down and up, then down again, hovering right at the entrance until Angela was practically squirming against her.

“Fareeha…” she breathed out.

Fareeha grinned at the needy tone that Angela couldn’t mask, and then pushed the length of the toy fully in, until their hips were flush. Angela gasped and jerked beneath her, readjusting to the new sensation, much as Fareeha was.

It was...different. Strange, really, and part of her wished to cast aside the toy and to feel and pleasure Angela directly herself.

She took a deep breath, pulling the toy out, and then slowly thrust it back in.

The throaty noise Angela made in response was a good thing, she knew.

Fareeha repeated the same motion. Again. And again.

And then stopped abruptly when Angela put a hand against her sternum, silent indication to pause.

“Do you not like...this?” All of the prior anxiety came flooding right back in an instant.

“Hardly the case,” Angela’s voice was more than a little bit breathless, but her eyes were glinting with something. “But I’ve got an idea I think both of us will like.”

She pushed Fareeha back into the pillows and the headboard of the bed, and then straddled her hips, reversing their positions.

Angela gripped the base of the toy with one hand, and Fareeha’s brain had precisely one second to comprehend just what was happening before Angela slowly slid herself onto it.

Fareeha sucked in a breath, fingers digging into the sheets beneath her as Angela took the length of the strapon into her, raised her hips, and then pushed back into it.

The sight of Angela over her, riding her, was far, far more erotic than what her imagination had been prepared for, and for a moment, it was all she could do stare, slack-jawed. Angela paused in her slow, sensual movements only murmur at her.

“Keep your hands busy, soldier.”

“Yes, ma’am,” whispered Fareeha, eagerly bringing both hands in question up to Angela’s breasts.

All the while, Angela rode her, bringing her hips up only enough to push them back down over the strapon, gradually increasing in pace. And every time she ground down into the silicone toy, the base of the harness pushed against Fareeha’s clit, goading on the liquid heat that was now running through her own veins.

God, but this was hot. Angela was hot, moving above and seizing her pleasure rather than waiting for it. Fareeha swallowed thickly.

She slid her hands down to grip Angela’s waist, moving in time as Fareeha now pushed her own hips into the same motion. Fareeha grunted, a bead of sweat dripping down her neck and across her sternum, a hot and delicious sort of pressure gathering between her legs as she increased the pace and rhythm.

Angela’s hands jerked out to grip the headboard above Fareeha, white-knuckled and straining. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her lips were swollen and half-parted.

“C-coming,” she stuttered out. “I’m coming.”

Even if she couldn’t feel it like normal, Fareeha could still easily recognize the sharp tightening of muscles and tendons beneath Angela’s skin, the way her voice cut off and seemed to be trapped in her throat for a long and drawn out second, as if time itself had stopped and the world was hinging on this one, pivotal moment.

And then she was sagging over Fareeha, breath short and clipped, pale skin flushed red and sweaty from the exertion. Fareeha’s own breath was loud in her ears, and she acutely felt how their skin touched and stuck together, and how her own sex throbbed beneath the weight of silicon and leather against it.

Slowly, Angela rolled off, giving a low groan of satisfaction. Fareeha eyed her as she leaned back into the pillows and headboards, idly wondering if Angela was already feeling the sore aftereffects of their activities for the evening. If she was, she seemed more than happy about it.

Maybe it hadn’t been so bad after all, despite how intimidated Fareeha may have silently been by a simple construct of plastic and leather. 

Speaking of which…

Now that the so-called festivities were done, Fareeha didn’t particularly feel the need to keep said toy on. It felt awkward having it still insistently strapped to her when there was no immediate use or need for it. She reached for one of the leather straps that rested on her hip to begin loosening it, and then promptly froze when Angela’s hands pulled hers away.

“Did you still want—” Her question, too, was silenced by single finger pressed up to her lips, and Fareeha could feel her brow furrow in confusion.

There was a glint of _something_ in Angela’s eyes before her head dipped down and she began kissing her way down Fareeha’s sternum.

Fareeha leaned back into the headboard, closing her eyes and shivering beneath the sudden and unexpected attention.

“I think,” Angela interspersed her kissing with words. “You deserve a reward. Particularly for all of your efforts today.”

“Ah...it’s...your birthday, though?” Fareeha felt a tremor run through her as Angela continued south, undeterred. Her skin buzzed when Angela hummed against her.

“And quite the happy birthday to me…” The murmur floated back up to her.

She’d reached Fareeha’s hips, where the leather now created a barrier.

Fareeha waited, uncertain of what was supposed to come next.

Her lips left Fareeha’s skin to move to the base of the silicone toy, and as Angelalowered herself flat to the bed, Fareeha felt her blood suddenly thrum beneath her skin. Her legs shifted wider instinctively, and she swallowed heavily when Angela glanced back up at her, a smile curling her lips upward.

Angela dipped her head down, kissed her way up the shaft, tongue darting out lick periodically. By the time she made her way to the tip, one hand still calmly resting on Fareeha’s inner thigh, Fareeha was squirming.

“Ready for me?”

Fareeha only had time to wordlessly gape.

Then Angela’s mouth closed around the head of the strapon, and at the same moment her fingers slid beneath the leather harness, right into the slick mess that Fareeha was beneath it. Fareeha groaned, seeing stars for a moment as Angela found her overstimulated clit. She was already so close to coming, closer than what she’d even realized while so focused Angela before.

Angela hummed, taking in more of the strapon, rubbing the smallest of circles with her fingers.

“Ange—” Fareeha choked on her name. Her hands reached out blindly, digging into the sheets, not daring to lay them on Angela’s head.

The unrelenting pressure against her clit only increased.

Fareeha managed to look down: Angela laying between her spread legs, one hand gripping the base of the strapon as her mouth concealed the rest, the other hand half hidden beneath the loosened leather. Even now, her sharp, blue eyes gleamed upward at Fareeha through her dark lashes, knowing. Perfectly knowing.

Fareeha jerked and came against Angela’s fingers blindingly hard, even though Angela had only barely just begun. The intensity of her own orgasm caught her off guard her, and squeezed her eyes closed as she gasped, shivering and shaking from the aftershocks.

“Shit,” she murmured, bright stars still flashing beneath her eyelids.

There was a low laugh, and then Angela’s hands were fully undoing the leather straps at her pelvis, finally helping her ease out of the harness proper. She heard the soft thump as it was finally and fully discarded to the side of the bed. Angela joined her up near the headboard a moment later; Fareeha’s thigh jumped and trembled with aftershocks as Angela absentmindedly stroked it.

“Shit,” Fareeha repeated, still dazed and blinking.

“Not exactly a ringing endorsement.”

Not so dazed as to miss the teasing yet well-meaning undertone to Angela’s comment. She tried to purse her lips at her girlfriend and failed, settling instead for wrapping her arms around Angela and kissing her soundly.

“Angela…”

“Don’t worry, love, we can always switch it around next time. If you think you’d like that.”

The thought made an appreciable shiver run through her, and Angela laughed, seeing it.

“Perhaps for your birthday, then, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


End file.
